Page 22 of A Novel Love Story

In the bathroom, I splashed myself with cold water and dried my face.Stop it, I thought. Tossing the paper towel into the trash can, I swung open the bathroom door to return to the table.

“… Sugar, I can’t cover your shift tonight,” I heard Ruby say. She was leaning against the end of the counter, on a red landline phone, twirling the cord around her finger. “I can’t—I promised Junie I’d help her with wallpaper.” Then a pause, a frustrated sigh. I eased myself back into the bathroom, pretending that I wasn’t eavesdropping at all. The rest of her words were mumbled, and then—“Yeah. All right, I’ll talk to her. Love you too, bye.”

She must’ve been talking to Jake. Everything was okay, right? The worst that could happen here was a burnt hamburger and a rainy afternoon—that’s what Anders said.

I was reading too much into it.

I counted to three, and left the bathroom.

Ruby was standing at the other side of the counter, directing the poor dishwasher to sweep up the ice from the ice maker. Then she noticed me and smiled. “Oh, Andie’s friend! How’re you liking the town?”

“It’s … very quixotic,” I said, a little tongue in cheek.

“It’s definitely quiet. Nothing ever happens here. It’s slow as fuck,” she added with a forced laugh.

“Do you think you’ll ever leave?”

Ruby shrugged. “I used to, but if I did I wouldn’t meet all of Andie’s fun friends, now would I? You’re the first, but I’m sure he has more.”

“Oh, no, I’m not—”

The cook in the kitchen called her name and shoved three plates through the window. “Order up, Rubes!”

“Oh, sorry, excuse me.” Then, with an apologetic smile, she took the plates and turned toward the other side of the café. “It was nice to meet you!”

“You, too,” I replied, and as she left, I fought to keep my mouth closed. I thought back on my conversation with Pru, about Ruby settling instead of Jake, and I knew she thought she was in the right. She had a loving boyfriend, after all, a perfect relationship, and probably what was about to be a fantastic proposal, and I just wanted—I wanted to be right about one thing. That maybe Pru was wrong. So I said, “Ruby—you can go after your dreams, you know.”

She tossed a curious look over her shoulder. “What?”

“This can’t be what you want, is it?”

She turned back to me, and the eggs on the tray sloshed with the movement. “I’m sorry?”

I nervously glanced across the café. Anders was sipping on his tea, and gazing out the window with a distant sort of look. Like he was a hundred miles away. It emboldened me to press on. “You just—you don’t have to settle.”

The woman blinked. She wasn’t quite sure what to say, and I hoped I hadn’t overstepped my bounds, but she needed to know. She just needed a little push, a little shove. That’s all it ever took, right? She was a fictional character. How hard could it be? I think I got through to her, because her breath hitched. Her eyes widened.

And then, to my utter dismay, things went south.

Very, very quickly.

“You don’t know me,” she said, her words so sharp they made me wince. “And even if you did?Fuck you.”

Then she left for the table destined for the discombobulated eggs and pancakes, and I felt a blush creep up my neck as the scraggly dishwasher glared at me.

I retreated back to Anders and slid nervously into my seat, glancing back at Ruby. Anders, for his part, didn’t even acknowledge me at first, still staring out the window. I followed his gaze to Gail, the bartender, walking beside a tall and burly man I could only imagine was Frank from Frank’s Auto Shop (and the owner of Frank’s Hotties), though I couldn’t see his face. Gail was laughing at something he’d said, and then they turned down the street and were gone.

I asked, “Penny for your thoughts?”

His minty eyes focused, returning, and he pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose reflexively. “Oh, no. My thoughts are a little more expensive than that.”

“Ah, had to adjust for inflation?”

“The ever-depressing climb of late-stage capitalism.” He shifted in his seat, and finally pulled himself all the way out of his thoughts. He asked me coyly, “Besides, a penny? What can you buy with a penny these days?”

“IthoughtI could buy your thoughts, but seems I was mistaken. I should up my prices, too, I guess.” I glanced nervously again toward the kitchen.

He caught on this time. “Is everything all right?”

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